How Do I Cancel Novellair?

I paid for a first-class plane ticket with my own money to beat our competitors and locked down a multi-million-dollar deal. By the time I went back with the signed contract, I received a notice of termination. The reason was because I violated the company cost-saving policy, and I was dismissed effective immediately. I was stopped and mocked by Maeve Zolten, the intern assistant. "It's a strict company policy that only train travel is allowed for business trips. You deliberately violated this rule. Should we undermine the company's regulations just for you?" My fiancé and the CEO of the company, Chance Goode, backed her up without hesitation. "As the director, you're taking the lead in violating the rules, setting an extremely negative example!" Through the narrow gap in the blinds, I caught a glimpse of him cheating on me with Maeve. That was when I finally understood all the mistreatment. They clearly misunderstood who owned the deal if they thought firing me ended the story. They fired me for a ticket, but I would walk away with the future. I turned away, pulled out my phone, and made a phone call. "I'll join you and bring in my new energy project worth tens of millions of dollars. Additionally, does your company restrict key employees from flying for business negotiations?"

Nora and Noah's story from contracted: Love in the Shadow. "Hey, Nora..." Noah tried calling her, she ignored him. He bit his lips in anger, as her hand touched the doorknob, he yelled, no, more like roared, "DANYON!" Nora immediately froze in place. She closed her eyes for a second, fighting back tears. that name--- Noah, seeing her wounded expression, took a deep breath, "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" "Don't," she snarled, haughtily glaring at him. “Don’t you even think about it.” “Nora—" He began to say, but she turned her back on him and stormed out of his office, ignoring the many eyes that followed her. ** Nora Danyon wasn’t supposed to survive the crash that killed her husband and children. Stripped of everything—her family, her sanity, and her will to live—she’s forced to start over in a world that feels colder than ever. And just when the darkness threatens to swallow her whole, he shows up… Noah Bamford—her late husband’s best friend and the man she once secretly loved. But Noah isn’t the same boy from the past. He’s distant, guarded, and haunted by ghosts of his own. Still, his presence pulls her back to life—until one stolen kiss in an elevator changes everything. Now emotions are spiraling, old wounds are ripping open, and just when Nora starts to believe in love again… Noah betrays her in the most unforgivable way. Now Nora is forced to male a choice ------ In a world where nothing is promised, and love isn’t written in contracts, can two broken souls rewrite the rules—or will their story end in ruins? There is drama, there is hate, and there is love, and above all, do they deserve a second chance? Sit back and enjoy the ride.

The first sign wasn’t the deaths. It was the air. When twenty-five-year-old ER doctor Naomi Sinclair notices healthy people collapsing for no medical reason, she expects to find a virus, a toxin, or something medicine can explain. Instead, every test points to the impossible. Her patients are breathing. Their blood carries oxygen. Yet their bodies are dying as if they never inhaled a single breath. As panic spreads across New York and all over the world, a powerful company called Aelion introduces a revolutionary device that seems to keep people alive when nothing else can. At the center of it is Aiden Vale, a calm, brilliant executive who always seems to arrive with exactly what the world needs. The more Naomi works beside him, the harder it becomes to ignore the connection growing between them and the questions she can’t stop asking. Then a scientist disappears after revealing a terrifying discovery on live television. Mysterious warnings begin appearing in Naomi’s life. Overnight, the impossible becomes ordinary, and she soon realizes the greatest threat may not be the people who are dying, but the reason they’re dying at all. As the air grows deadlier and the line between salvation and deception begins to blur, Naomi must decide who to trust before every breath becomes a luxury. But when the person holding the answers is also the man she’s falling in love with, how do you save the world without losing your heart… or your very last breath?

The night before our group trip, Raymond Kane tags me in the group chat and tells me to check my flight ticket. When I open the booking, I discover my ticket was refunded three days ago—without anyone telling me. Before I can even type a reply, the messages start pouring in. Madelyn announces, "I bet Ray that you wouldn't check the booking before we left. He got you to look it up yourself. That's cheating!" Raymond shrugs it off. "Doesn't matter. You still lost. She only just found out. Just book another one. We'll just have to sit apart." Their casual banter brings back a familiar ache. It reminds me of the time they bet on how long it would take me to realize my hotel room has been downgraded from a standard double to a shared triple, leaving me to sleep on a folding cot. And before that, they bet on whether I'd notice the art museum on our itinerary had been replaced with an escape room. Whenever I tell them it hurts, they always give the same tired reply. "How were we supposed to know you cared if you never said anything?" But they never ask. I close the booking app and open another one, searching for flights to Isvind. I imagine myself surrounded by the silence of a 5°F night, with the northern lights painting the sky above me. Perhaps a solo trip is exactly what I need.

On the night before we're supposed to register our marriage, our friends suggested playing a mystery box game. Each of the men puts a gift into a box, and the boxes are randomly handed out to the women. They all say this is the fairest way to play this game. When I open mine, there's only a single card inside that reads, "Thank you for participating." The room falls silent for a moment. Then, someone can't help snickering. My fiance, Hunter Sinclair, ruffles my hair. "Your luck is still as bad as ever." My childhood friend, Gabriel Unwin, lowers his voice and says, "Smile. Don't make people think you can't take a joke." At the same round, Tiffany West opens her box and finds the grand prize inside. The box contains a pink diamond necklace personally chosen by Hunter and a voucher for the island getaway I've talked about for three years. There is also a handwritten card from Gabriel. It says, "We'll always be here to protect you." I smile along with everyone else and slip my card back into the empty box. A raffle is all about luck, after all. Later, as I head to the restroom, I overhear the host checking the prize list in the lounge. He says, "Mr. Sinclair, everything was handed out correctly, right? The grand prize went to Ms. West, and the consolation prize went to Ms. Lawson." Hunter hums in confirmation. Gabriel laughs and adds, "That's right. She'll find a way to make herself feel better." Standing outside the door, I suddenly remember my 18th birthday. I waited in the rain for the midnight fireworks celebrating my coming of age. But Hunter and Gabriel held the only umbrella over Tiffany instead. Looking back at me, they said, "Natalie, your house is closer. Just run a couple of steps, and you're safe from the rain." That night, I went home soaked to the bone. I even made excuses for them, telling myself that it was just my bad luck. But tonight, I finally understand. The umbrella was never meant for me in the first place. So this time, I tear up that card and decide not to go through with our marriage registration. I'm done playing the game of luck they've rigged from the very beginning.

On the day of my third wedding anniversary, I wait for my husband, Jonathan Myers, in the heavy downpour for four hours even though I'm already nine months pregnant. I can feel the rain drenching me from head to toe. At the same time, I keep suffering from the irregular contractions. Jonathan sends me a voice message. I can hear a bell tolling and a woman's laughter in the background. "Honey, I'll be home late. Quinn told me that she's never admired the cityscape at night before." The moment I'm hoisted onto a stretcher, I glance at my phone. Coincidentally, Jonathan's social media feed has just refreshed, showing a grid of nine photos. Quinn Farris can be seen standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window, where an array of the city lights stretch out behind her. The caption reads, "I'm admiring the world with my baby girl." Meanwhile, I've lost a lot of blood in the delivery room. On the surgical forms, the spot that's supposed to bear my husband's signature is left empty. At 3:00 am, Jonathan wakes up in Quinn's bed. He then transfers me 5000 dollars and leaves a note on the transaction history. "Thanks for your hard work." I reject the transaction before dialing a number. "Dad, I've thought things through. I want to leave the country."